


A Move-In Experience

by MistyBeethoven



Series: Strange Couchfellows [10]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Apartments, Canon Backstory, Comedy but a little dark/sad too, Cops, Dogs, Gen, Homecoming, Moving In Together, Robin Lord Taylor character, Welcome mats, daisies, fire damage, graves, houses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19214413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: John Wick takes the Administrator along to visit his former residence.





	A Move-In Experience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asuralucier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuralucier/gifts).



> The tenth (Did I just type that?) in a time diverting and admittedly stupid series.
> 
> Thanks and credit to the fantastic asuralucier who requested a Move-In fic! I like to take care of my markers as soon as possible so...

"Where is all of your stuff?" the Administrator asked John Wick one night as they sat watching television.

The assassin remained silent, preferring to watch Vanna White turn a letter than answer the question.

The Administrator smirked. "I mean, you didn't bring a single thing other than your dog and the clothing on your back."

The pierced man looked at John Wick. He just hoped it wasn't the exact _same_ clothing still on his back.

Still more silence other than Wick recommending a contestant pick an S.

"Maybe I'd stop thinking of you inside my head as my houseguest and start thinking of you as my roommate if you'd just bring _something_."

John Wick suddenly turned around. His dark eyes met the other man's green ones.

"That's _all_ I brought because that is _all_ I have," Wick said.

The Administrator rolled the same green eyes. "I mean you have to have something."

John Wick furrowed his brow. "You mean you never read my file?"

The man in the glasses shrugged. "I'm in Administration. I do as I'm told. I'm paid not to really give a fuck."

* * *

Dead of morning, sleeping peacefully, the Administrator woke up to find John Wick sitting on his bed.

"Wha...?" the man tried to brush the sleep from his eyes as quickly as he could. Waking up to find an assassin sitting on your bed opened the door up to several dangerous situations.

"Do you really not give a fuck?" Wick asked but didn't look at the man he had just disturbed's face.

"I told you. I am an Administrator."

Wick silently stared at the ground before he asked his intended question. "Your next day off, do you want to help me move in?"

The pencil pusher nodded; he was too afraid to say no.

* * *

They went out to the former residence of John and Helen Wick the next free day the Administrator had. The two men stood side by side looking at the destroyed building; the house looked like Paul Hogan had put it on the barbie instead of the shrimp.

"This is my home," Wick said.

"Nice," the bureaucrat commented as a stray board dangled in the wind from the roof and then fell to the ground.

"I made a blood oath with a man called Santino so I could leave the business and be with my wife...so I could live in this house with her. After she died, he showed up one night with the marker. I refused to help him...so he took a grenade launcher and completely destroyed it," the assassin explained.

"That wasn't very nice," the Administrator tilted his head and examined the damage. "The least he could have done was give you a bag of marshmallows to enjoy as it went up."

Wick wasn't laughing as he entered the building his companion following close behind.

* * *

The Administrator was given a tour of the Wick home.

"This was the kitchen," the assassin said.

It was black and ashen.

"This was the living room," the hitman announced.

It was dark and covered in soot.

"This was the bedroom," the killer revealed.

It was ebony and cindered.

Room after room, the presentation was the same. They searched for things that Wick may wish to take back with him to the apartment as they went.

In the bathroom, the Administrator picked up some unknown object.

"How about this?" he asked.

John Wick shook his head. "I loved my wife but I don't really think I'll be needing the charcoaled remains of her menstrual cup."

The Administrator dropped the item immediately.

As they made their journey, it occurred to the High Table worker that the house was very much like the man who had owned it now was: the structure remained but it was completely destroyed inside.

* * *

They were standing outside on the lawn. The hitman solemnly looked at a patch of earth that was somewhat disturbed; his hands were folded in front of him in a symbol of reverence. The pencil pusher looked at the same place as the other man; he simply knew of nowhere else he wanted to rest his gaze.

"My wife loved daisies," Wick said finally breaking the silence.

The Administrator crinkled his nose. "I've always thought they smell like a dog took a piss on them."

"After she died she gave me a dog. It was called Daisy."

"See the connection," the pencil pusher remarked.

"My wife died, a man killed my dog and then stole my car. That's what started all of this," Wick stated still looking at the ground. "I buried her here."

"Your wife or the dog?" the Administrator asked genuinely confused.

"Daisy. I haven't been to Helen's grave since all of this happened."

The shorter man looked up at the saddened face of the assassin. Sighing, the Administrator walked over to a cluster of wildflowers. He picked out the daisies, knowing all the while he was going to end up with fingers that smelled like urine. He walked over to where John Wick stood and threw them on the grave as if he didn't give a fuck but really did.

"You tell any of the High Table members I did that and you're dead," the Administrator warned.

"If I saw any High Table member to tell I'd be dead anyway," Wick commented. "And if they knew you were keeping me safe, they would kill you too."

* * *

They walked through the house one last time, the Administrator saying it would be regrettable if they came all this way only to return to the apartment empty handed. In the kitchen, Wick found a knife that wasn't in too bad of shape and the two men turned to leave.

While walking out the front door, the welcome mat unwelcomed the Administrator; he tripped on it and fell face down on the cement pathway. John Wick ran to him.

When a police cruiser pulled up, the Administrator kept his face down in embarrassment while Wick turned around quickly. John Wick, knife still clutched in his hand and raised, stood over the Administrator's prone and unmoving body.

Jimmy, the policeman, stuck his head out of the passenger side window of the cruiser.

"Sorry John. Didn't know you were back. Complaint about two strange men on the premises. You...uh...working again?"

* * *

Back in the city, the bureaucrat and the assassin stood outside the door to the apartment. There was a black bruise and dirt on the Administrator's face to match the smudge he usually wore. When Wick had tried to clean it off with the sleeve of his shirt, the pencil pusher had wanted to tell the man to go to Hell but he felt that they had just left it. Instead he just let the man do it, feeling all the while like a small child with his mother; or perhaps how Daisy had felt not too long ago when she had still been alive and breathing.

"Nice road trip," the pencil pusher said sarcastically. "Next time take us someplace where we don't run the risk of getting lung cancer."

"Should I carry you over the threshold?" Wick asked feeling as if he should somehow commemorate the event of having officially moved in.

"You do and I'll add what I discovered in the remnants of your old den to your file," the Administrator smirked as he entered the place they both now called home.

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out a little more melancholy than I had planned but I think it is fitting. I wanted to take John home again, with the Administrator by his side, but there was no way to do that without a little darkness and sadness creeping in. I can only hope, at least, that the comedy feels right when it happens and so does the drama.


End file.
